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Peter Brunette, 1943-2010
Jan Lumholdt remembers an absent friend

"Luxuriating in the view over the Sicilian coast, the Mt. Etna volcano,
and the Mediterranean sea here at the Taormina Film Festival.
Oh yeah, and seeing some good films too!"

Photo courtesy Wake Forest University.

Such reads Philadelphia-based American film critic / English professor / "citoyen du monde" Peter Brunette's last posting on Facebook, on which yours truly is added as what is generically referred to as a "Friend" according to FB vernacular.

We were friends in a bit deeper regard than that. With Peter it was easy. "You are my friend until proven otherwise", seemed to be his criterion, rather than that not-that-uncommon standpoint of measuring and appraising before approving (or not), which on occasion is known to have occurred within our particular profession.

There's a small squadron of discerning women and men more seasoned in giving the full and eloquent character testimony to the sizeable qualities of this renaissance scholar of a variety of arts, some more academic than others but all equally important to him, who graced our particular world through four decades. Rest assured, such testimonies will appear, in more or less official settings, if they haven't already done so (do a google and you will see). In the meantime, two heartfelt cents to a million buck kind of guy, courtesy one out of his many little buddies out there.

I first met Peter at Cannes in 1999 (my second, his umpteenth). This merry man, who both looked and sounded like a modern-day Little John who seemed to treat Cannes as Sherwood Forest, immediately talked me into avoiding the new Manoel De Oliveira at all costs (which I probably shouldn't have done; it won the jury prize). He then hi-jacked me to a Finnish party and introduced me to Mika Kaurismäki. Two hours, one gallon of vodka and a string of informal discussions on a wide array of topics later, he offered me a book deal. Later, when the book ("Lars von Trier: Interviews", part of the "Conversations with Filmmakers" series, for which Peter acted as general editor) indeed was published, he wrote me a beautiful letter of praise and encouragement, worth every bit as much as my $749.34 royalty check for the work, possibly more. It remains an especially warm nod of reassurance whenever I or anyone else will question my chosen path of cultural undertaking.

Encounters ensued through the years, at screenings, after screenings, before screenings. Waiting time would turn into quality time with Peter. "What did you make of that one, Jan?" (always pronounced the European way: "Yaan", never the American "Jan", as short for Janet). Although he could love bomb the most avant-garde of films, he was equally quick-as-a-blink in bashing sophomorism (even, as mentioned, in a then 91-year-old Portuguese "master"). One of his very last reviews, on Kornél Mundruczó's freshly Cannes-screened Tender Son: The Frankenstein Project, perfectly illustrates the point, as made by a well-read doyen with the keen eye of the astute little child in "The Emperor's New Clothes". He never lost this keen eye, never succumbed to pomposity or superiority, whether it be on Wong Kar-wai, Michael Haneke or The Three Stooges (to name three fields of particular expertise). We did not always agree — far from it — which was when some of the best discussions were had. I picked up some good tips from the sensei, sometimes inadvertently. Like never letting anyone talking you into skipping an Oliveira. If a film is unwatchable, you need to go watch it to find out (especially if it wins a jury prize).

We were all over the place, Peter's "family", and so was Peter. He did Berlin (where we had some terrific nights at the Café Einstein, including a memorable sitting with Harriet Andersson). He did Cannes. He did Vienna. He did Toronto, so he didn't do Venice, but would have this year, as he announced with great anticipation in Cannes, just a month ago. "And I'm bringing some students".

Lucky students. They couldn't have had a better teacher and guide with them (fluent in Italian, of course), be on Antonioni or on Mann, on Valpolicella or Bardolino, on gorgonzola with walnuts or on "some very good prosciutto" (he even spots some of the revered ham in Rossellini's Era notte a Roma, which is duly noted in a rich analysis of the film in his seminal 1996 book on the Italian director, one of many he wrote. Collect them all).

Now they are poor students. So are the rest of us, a fair bit, on the film festival circuit.

Back to his Facebook observation. Peter wrote it on June 15, 11:07 local time. Less than 24 hours later, his big, warm heart stopped beating during breakfast in Taormina, in the middle of a discussion concerning figs. He was 66 and went peacefully but horrendously early. Neither kosher nor cricket was this demise.

Come Venice 2010, I shall raise my glass to a very absent friend and a true Mensch. Anyone wishing to join in will be warmly welcome. We may also enjoy some very good prosciutto. Oh yeah, and seeing some good films too!

Jan Lumholdt
© FIPRESCI 2010

Jan Lumholdt is a film critic at "Svenska Dagbladet" in Stockholm and vice-president of FIPRESCI.

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